In the Company of Wolves
by Five seas
Summary: A different retelling of "Beauty and the Beast".
1. Chapter One

**I don't own Kaleido Star.  


* * *

Chapter One**

It was the last day of summer, and the sky was crying blood.

Sora groaned and pulled up her hood over her cherry hair as she dashed the final hundred yards to her house. The raindrops fell on her shoulders and head like little bullets, but she managed to cross the threshold without getting immediately soaked through. Scientists could tell her that it was safe, a completely harmless side effect from the usage of the new coal until they were blue in the face, she would still fear and mistrust it.

Red was not a color one associated with water.

"Sora? Is that you?" her aunt called from the kitchen. Sora took off her cloak and checked the apples before walking in the direction of the voice.

"I made it," she grinned and showed off her basket. "I got here before the storm started for real."

Her aunt tsked and shook her head. "You know you don't have to go as far as the opposite farm for this, Sora."

The girl shrugged. "We need the fresh fruit. And it's only three miles – I like the walk."

The older woman shook her head, but didn't argue any further and rested a hand on her belly, ripe with its third pregnancy. It had been a hard year on all of them – the deceptive weather had destroyed most of the crops, most of the workforce had been employed in the coal mine, and the king's council had raised the property taxes again, which had forced some of the minor land owners, them included, to sell.

She sighed. She knew better than to complain – if Sora was not afraid to walk three miles to and back from their neighbors to fetch some apples, it was ok. And it wasn't like they were desolate.

"Set the table," she said. "It's clear that your uncle won't be arriving today either."

* * *

Sora sat in Mr. Grively's study, trying to suppress the urge to bite her nails. The mill owner had been going through the papers for more than ten minutes now, without any other reaction other than a random grunt or sigh.

However, it was important that she maintained her cool. She had to appear calm, indifferent…

"Miss Naegino, I have to say, you have a way with numbers," he commented. "Your penmanship has improved greatly.

She straightened up immediately. "Thank you, sir," she said, before realizing that compliments to her penmanship were the last things she needed.

He nodded and turned back towards the papers, continuing to make random remarks about things he found interesting. Sora felt like she was on pins and needles. "How is your aunt doing?" he asked.

"Very well, sir."

"Her confinement would happen soon, I believe."

"It… there is still time, sir," Sora murmured, not entirely certain whether this was a question that had its place in polite conversation.

"There has been talk that this winter will be especially severe." He looked up from the papers and into her eyes in a way that was supposed to be meaningful. Instead, it looked slightly constipated. "Does she not consider it more prudent to take lodgings in town for the season?"

"I'm sure she has considered it, but it's not a decision that she can take alone."

"Hmm…" he pretended to think again. "Here's the problem, Miss Naegino – while the expected profits of this year's crop seem more than promising for your guardians' farm, the imported grain from the major cities this year will be quite large. Do you understand?"

She bowed her head. Of course she did – even if the price for transportation was no trifle, the access to grain, and therefore – to flour, would not be hindered. Mr. Grively had no reason to buy their crops for a higher price than usual.

The man leaned over the desk and gave her hand a fatherly pat. "I'm sorry, Sora. I have the highest respect for your guardians, and I wish for nothing better than to help them out of this ordeal. But you see, this is out of my hands." He made an elaborate gesture to illustrate. "The price is set by the crown, and unless special circumstances are presented, we cannot deviate. Perhaps…"

"Perhaps?" She looked up, hopeful. The mill owner had been around for as long as she could remember, a good friend of her uncle. If there was any way out of this mess, he would know it. But his face appeared grim as if he knew that the idea would not sit well with her.

"Sora, will you let me be honest with you?" She nodded warily. "Please keep in mind that this is merely a suggestion, but one I believe your guardians should seriously consider selling the farm."

She drew back as if he had slapped her. For once, decorum was the last thing on her mind and her mouth fell open. Sell the farm? Was that man with his wits?

Noticing her distress, Mr. Grively hurried to set his arguments out: "Hear me out. The last few years haven't been good to you. The crop has been bad, and your uncle's business ventures have not been successful. However, the prices on land in the region are growing. If you consider selling now, the family could settle quite nicely in town and leave something to the side. It is not the only way, but please consider it."

Sora could not look at him in the eye when she said, "My uncle is bound to succeed. His business has been having some hard times, but he knows what he's doing."

"I'm sure he does. However, at this moment, he is not doing you or your aunt any favors. He has not returned from his voyage, has he not?"

"We… we expect him to come anytime now."

"Of course, while your aunt expects to be confined any day now." There was a trace of bitterness in Grively's voice and Sora, in spite of her discomfort and mortification, looked up at him curiously. He looked paint. Almost… angry. But before she could analyze this, he spoke again. "His lack of consideration for his family is most unfair. If he had any sense, he would have put your interests before his own."

Sora wanted to say something, anything, but couldn't find any words in her uncle's defense. In her defense. But it was like he was submerging her in accusations, holding her down without letting her get a breath of air. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stop telling her these things. What did he expect of her? She was still young, a woman just out of childhood. How was she supposed to be qualified to take these decisions? Why did he think that she was in any way capable of dealing with something so important?

"I only say this because I think it is the best way, Sora," he said, gathering her papers up and handing them to her. "I'm sorry."

* * *

She was so carried away into her thoughts that she almost missed Ken calling her until the latter almost ran her down. "Ken!" she laughed when the boy threw his arms over her eyes.

"Right as always." He pulled away and a second later she saw his smiling blue eyes. "Why so gloomy, Sora?"

She smiled. "Gloomy? Is that how you greet a girl nowadays?"

"Is that how you greet your friends nowadays?" he retorted, pouting slightly.

Sora laughed and made a half-hearted swat at him. "You're the one who came charging at me like that."

"Only to see your reaction," he said as he started walking next to her. Without a word, he picked up her basket, already full of groceries, and started towards the road to her guardians' house.

Sora loved that – the friendship, the stability. For the last ten years, whatever serious memory she had had, Ken had been right there with her. She loved the fact that she could talk to him about whatever was on her mind. She loved that she could expect him to give her his honest opinion. It was, in her mind, the best thing that a girl could wish for – somebody who took her seriously.

So, like any other time, she told him – of her uncle's travels, of the crop problems, Grively's proposal.

"Can you believe it that he actually suggested we sell the farm, Ken? The farm! The land has been in the family for generations, even before the first Revolution! How could anyone even conceive this?" she went on for a while, until she realized that her friend had gone very silent. Turning towards him, she found him deep in thought. "Ken?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. I was just… thinking." He laughed embarrassedly.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she teased.

He shrugged. "I was just wondering… what if he's right?"

Her smile fell off so fast as if he had ripped it off. "What are you saying?"

"Well, let's be realistic," he said. "It seems like the most profitable way."

"But it's the farm!" she gasped. How could he not see the importance of it.

"It's just land, Sora." He looked apologetic, though his words were not. "Whatever you do, it's merely dirt and a house. Is it not more important to be with your family rather than constantly worry about this small patch of Earth?"

"I… it is. But this isn't just earth. It's our home." Not to mention that she was certain that, whatever retailers said, their land was worth more than they offered for it. They'd been getting offers on and off for the last two years now, with some buyers more persistent than others. Call her naïve, but Sora wanted to keep their home where it was.

"Sora, what other choice is there?" Ken asked in his best exasperated voice.

She opened her mouth to answer him, but fell silent. The only answer that came to her mind was so ridiculous she was sure he would laugh at her.

_Marriage_. Of course, only she was yet of age, with her oldest cousin being only fourteen, but still, if she got a husband, he would help with the management of the farm, at least until her uncle got his feet underneath himself. But who would have her without a dowry? Sora was a very peculiar sort of beauty – with her plum colored hair and wide brown eyes, she was certainly attractive in spite of her modest clothes and negligent appearance. She had gathered looks from the opposite sex ever since she outgrew her girlish pigtails. But what good did only beauty do necessary – she could work on the farm, keep numbers and negotiate, read faster than any girl in town… but those were not qualities that men looked for. Nobody wanted a wife that could be smarter than them.

Growing up, she had entertained once or twice the idea that she and Ken could, perhaps, wed one day. But that was not possible – the Robins' were one of the first people to seriously exploit the coal mines in town when the railroad had been built. Ken's parents had made a small fortune, and expected him to marry appropriately. By that time, Sora had long ago come to terms with the fact that marrying Ken would be pretty much like marrying her own brother, but nevertheless, nothing lessened the sting.

Sighing, she looked down at her feet. "I know it's hard, Ken. But… it's just not right. My uncle…" she paused when she noticed a lone figure on the path. A man who appeared to be of considerable age was trying to climb up the path, but kept tripping over his two legs. Worried, she rushed forward, calling out to him, but was stopped dead in her tracks when he turned around… and recognized her.

"Sora? Sora!" He rushed forward, fell on his knees, grabbed her hands and started sobbing.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?" she babbled, wondering how that lunatic had found her, before she noticed something familiar about his clothing. As he raised his eyes to hers, she gasped. "Uncle!"

Ken hurried to them, babbling confused welcomes and being generally useless as he tried to haul the man to his feet and carry Sora's groceries at the same time. Numb with shock, the girl went to help them, and after a while they managed to cross the porch of the farm. It wasn't until later, when they had taken the hysterical man to his wife, that Sora realized why she had had such a hard time recognizing her uncle at first.

His hair, usually a deep chestnut color, was now completely and totally white.

* * *

A/N - Rather hurried, but I hope to make this better. Thoughts?


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter two**

Sora had never thought of her uncle as old. Yes, she was aware that he had been her father's brother and therefore had to be older than her, but the man had always been so cheerful, so happy, as if his age meant nothing to him. He carried himself as a man that was twice as young, and he always kept a smile on no matter what.

But she saw him now and it was as if the years had come crushing down on him in a single night. Sora could swear she would have never known him if he'd passed her on the street. How thin he'd been, how lifeless when they'd helped him into the house! It was as if walking itself was a torture. His clothes were so big on him that he resembled a scarecrow more than a man. It was obvious he was sick – he kept shaking and muttering nonsense about 'forgiveness', 'weakness' and the Devil. They barely had time to get him to lie down before a fever consumed him completely.

Ken didn't stay. Sora didn't ask him to.

For the next few days, it rained harder than ever. Sora, her aunt, and her eldest cousin Rosetta took turns to take care of the invalid, nursing him painstakingly back to health. They took special care to block his view of the windows, because the weather for some reason made him anxious. His fever was very bad, and in his rare moments of clarity he was no better off. There was nothing that could bring him comfort. On the contrary – the sight of his daughters and niece made him weep like a babe.

It wasn't until the fourth day after his arrival that he managed to come to his senses enough to say something articulate, and even then he made little sense. He started off telling them about the failure of his latest business endeavor (although they'd expected bad news to begin with), but it seemed like the way back was what distressed him most. He said that he'd taken a shortcut through a mountain pass to save money and that his guide had abandoned him in the middle of the night, and then deteriorated into a fit of hysterics again.

When the rain finally ebbed, Sora practically jumped the opportunity to go out in the woods. But even that hadn't help lighten her thoughts. For one thing, people generally avoided going out in the rain, and now her quiet sanctuary was filled with those looking for firewood, berries or herbs. Company did not bother her – she loved a good chat, and she was generally liked by the people in the village, but their clipped, schooled lines and refusal to look at her in the eye told her everything she needed to know – gossip of her uncle's ruin and subsequent disease had already spread like wildfire.

Needless to say, her walk was cut short.

Sora tried to be cheerful for her aunt – she took care of the bulk of housework, kept the fire going, mixed herbs for healing tea and looking after her younger cousins. But she knew that underneath the facades, they were all asking the same question – what was to become of them?

Days passed, and while her uncle's fevers got fewer and far in between, things were not looking up. Her aunt had to release from duty the few people they kept around the farm and was working over the figures day and night, looking for a way out of the ditch. The mill-owner's offer, once scandalous, looked more and more tempting by the day. And little by little, even Sora felt resentment worm its way into her heart.

It wasn't fair. Her guardians were good people. They deserved happiness and health, not isolation and ridicule. It was so humiliating to have their hands wrung back like that, without even the slightest help from their friends. Was emotional support too much to hope for? Or kindness? Or common courtesy?

One night, very late, Sora was woken up by thunder rattling the house. Outside, the rain beat against the windowpane like bullets. She squirmed in her bed, tossed around, and once she realized that sleep would be pointless, got up and went downstairs intending to make herself a cup of tea.

She was surprised to see a fire going in the living room, and even more so when she saw her uncle lounging into one of the chairs.

"Ah, Sora," he greeted her with a tired smile. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No. What are you doing there, aren't you cold? Let me get you a blanket." She hurried to the linen closet for a comforter and draped it over her uncle's form, noticing in the last moment the heavy rosary that hung over his neck. Her guardians went to church, of course, but were not passionate to the point of fanatics like some of the families in town. And the thing looked positively stifling. She reached out to remove it, when her uncle grabbed her hand so tightly that he nearly broke the wrist.

She gave a small cry, more of surprise than of pain, which roused him from whatever living nightmare he'd fallen into. He let go, apologizing profusely, but didn't meet her eye.

Sora went about their tea, telling herself that it was just the illness and the storm outside that caused her uncle to behave so strangely. But when she handed him his cup, she saw in his face not the feverish darkness, but actual, true sadness. "Uncle, what happened?"

He took the cup from her, but did not look up for a long time. Finally, he sighed: "I try to tell myself that it was all a dream. All a horrible, horrible dream. But the more I try to convince myself, the more obvious it is that it's not. Sora… oh, Sora, what have I done?"

"What happened?" she repeated, gently, as if she was coaxing a wild animal towards herself. Her uncle stood there for a while, looking at the fire. Finally, when he spoke again, his voice was hollow and sad, as if it came from somewhere dark and sinister.

* * *

He'd been walking for almost four hours without knowing where he was or what direction he'd been heading in. The summer day was drawing to an end without so much as a village or a road station in sight. All around him was a forest – ancient, dangerous and so dark that the sun barely filtered on the old country road.

He cursed his guide for the millionth time that day. He should have known better than to hire someone from those remote mountain villages. They had bargained and argued with him until he'd agreed to nearly triple the money he'd been offering so that they would get him across, and even then they had had the audacity to leave him in the middle of the road. Good thing he had said he'd pay on arrival – otherwise he would have been deprived of the few coins he'd had left because of those silly superstitions.

True, the pass was probably one of the places in the mountain where there was no railway or even carriage service. True, it was one of the wildest places in the country. But a gathering place for witches and monsters? He did not believe it, but his guides did. One of them had had the audacity to leave behind a heavy rosary for him, to protect him. Fools.

Although, as night gradually fell, he had to admit that there was some reason behind their fears. Into the darkness, in these woods, it was only too easy to give into your fears. Here, nightmares and superstitions were only too happy to come to life, if you let them.

His feet were tired and still he kept on. He told himself that if he did not reach a village within an hour, he would climb a tree and tie himself up to the branch. He couldn't risk camp alone – who knew what kind of creatures there were out there. Wolves surely – he'd heard howling the night before his guides disappeared, but he still counted on finding shelter.

An hour passed, but shelter was still nowhere in sight. The temperatures had dropped drastically and he was shivering in spite of his warm coat. He was weighing his options (freeze to death on top of a tree or risk getting eaten) when a path caught his eye. It was half-hidden by the huge bushes, but it was clearly a wide road. It had once been paved, and though it had seen better days, there were clear carriage marks in the dirt. Perhaps there was a house not too far from here – if he could only brave the forest, perhaps he could beg a place to stay for the night.

Although there was a house, he probably would have missed it – he literally ran into the front door. Every light was out, which made him think that the owners were either gone or on a trip. But why were there no servants? At least one had to be left behind to take care of the house. It didn't matter – if he could just find some matches and candles, he'd do very well in the stables. He headed in the direction of what he thought was the kitchen, bumped around and finally, finally found an old candlestick and some old matches.

When there was finally light around him, though, he wished there hadn't been. The furniture was overturned, pictures hung off the walls in tatters, and everywhere there were symmetrical gashes – in the woods, in the cloth, even in the stone walls. Claw marks, but of what animal he knew not.

He felt a chill, but one look outside – the dark forest, the possibility of dying, convinced him that he was much safer here than anywhere else.

One more look around convinced him that the owners had probably left a long time ago, and he could probably go into one of the rooms upstairs. But as he moved around the house, he couldn't help but feel bad, as if he was intruding on something he oughtn't. But it was dark outside and the house just stood there – self-perseverance ran deeper than fear. At least so he thought.

On the second floor, he could hear the wind howling, probably through a broken window. He opened a door, but instead of stumbling into some sleeping quarters, the light of the candles shone on what looked like a mountain on jewels.

Startled, he closed the door. For a moment, he felt tempted to look in again, but he was certain he was seeing things and tried another one. There were no jewels there, but antique furniture and paintings that even he could tell cost a fortune. He could not lie down in that place. He opened a third door, and broke out into cold sweat.

There was money. Chest upon chest of golden coins, ancient and new. They seemed to wink at him into the weak light. He shivered and tried to calm himself down. Impossible. His eyes remained glued to the fortune in front of him, and without his consent, his feet shuffled forward and he knelt down in front of the chests. Just to touch… just to see… he reached out, and just then, the door slammed closed behind him. He whirled around and ran straight into a creature from his worst nightmare.

* * *

"The master of the house was home," her uncle said, and rolled up his sleeve. On his arm were five perfect gashes, barely healed yet. Sora barely suppressed a shudder of fear. "He caught me… it was of no use saying that I wasn't trying to steal."

"How did you escape?" she whispered, not knowing whether or not she wanted to hear this. By the look on her uncle's face, he didn't want to think about it.

"I pleaded with him. Told him I had a wife and daughters and a niece." He shivered. "He let me go… gave me this…" out of his pocket, he pulled out a compass that didn't point North and a golden coin, so large it weighted his hand down. "He said I could keep this if I sent one of the girls up to him. The compass is supposed to set the way."

Sora's hand flew up and she tried to stifle her gasp of surprise. "You… you're returning this, right? If you didn't steal anything, there is no problem, isn't there?"

Her uncle nodded eagerly. "Yes, yes, I'm returning it. I just… I wanted to come clean to your aunt first… and I need to grow strong again, so that I can return this. I don't think the castle gets much mail."

Something in his face made her worry. "Did he… say something else?"

Her uncle started, then laughed. "No… no… why would you think that?"

She frowned. "If that is all there is, why are you so upset?"

His face sobered and he looked down at his hands. "I am safe now, amongst friends, where the law will inflict justice and the church will protect me. He cannot come and kill me, or force me to send one of my daughters."

Sora gasped. "Is that what he asked? That one of us went to him."

Her uncle shook his head. "He sent me here, but said that I must come back to suffer my punishment, or send one of my daughters in my place. I will not do that." He straightened up. "I will return the money. I will."

He seemed to descend into a fever again. Sora did not waste time and ushered him upstairs into his bed. He did not mind it – in fact, he was already far away, half in a dream and half in a nightmare, when she tucked him in bed at last. Then, she went back downstairs and sat, gazing at the fire, till morning.

* * *

A/N - Next chapter's being written as we speak...


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter three**

She gritted her teeth as she got off the coach and raised her hands to retrieve her small trunk from the coachman. It was early morning, and yet the whole village was up and about already. All they saw was the public coach, but they would soon scrutinize the passengers and she would, once more, stick out like a sore thumb.

Sora pulled her trunk aside and busied herself to readjust her hat, while taking a peek at the compass in her pocket. The arrow pointed in a direction that could be the East-North, although she wasn't entirely sure. She considered her map and then the schedule for the coaches hung near the station – the next one left in three hours, but every single one was headed for the Gatshead pass. The Hillsborough pass wasn't even noted to exist on the local map.

Still, she couldn't be too far. She calculated that she could probably reach the castle by noon if she took a coach or a horse. Her old map showed that there was another village nearby, although when she looked around, there were no signs that directed to it.

Determined to get the journey over with before nightfall, she marched into the inn and turned to the woman behind the counter with her widest, most beatific smile, and asked for directions. The innkeeper stared at her as if she had grown two heads, before shaking her head:

"There ain't nothin' near the Devil's pass, miss. Nothin' but woods and wolves."

"But there is a road, is it not? Then surely there must be a village, or at least a station," she argued patiently.

"No, miss. There ain't nothin'. People don't pass through that damned place – there be stories." The woman's shrewd eyes examined Sora as if she were a horse up for sale. "Where're you goin', miss?"

"I need to get to Lakeshore," Sora lied, knowing better than to state her purpose. "But I need to get there fast. Hillsborough is much quicker than Gatshead."

"Why the hurry? You can stay here, you know. The more weary passengers the better." The look the woman gave her did not agree with Sora.

"Thank you, but I really must be on my way."

"Why? Is there some work in Lakeshore that you can't do here?" the innkeeper asked, which caused Sora to turn scarlet.

"Yes, indeed there is. Can you tell me if I can hire a horse from here?"

* * *

She traded her trunk for a saddle bag and some extra money she used to hire a horse. Although the man at the public stables gave her a weird look when she told him where she was passing through, he accepted her money, and made no comment. That was good – she had had enough of people's curiosity and anger. Even in the city, her presence, a lone female traveling, had raised many eyebrows. No respectable lady traveled unchaperoned, although where she was going, respectability was probably not worth a dime.

Before dawn had broken on the day after her uncle had told his chilling story, Sora's mind had been made up. Many times, when her frustration had gotten the better of her, it had turned towards herself, and only the fact that she was still of use to her aunt stopped her from going into town and taking up a job in the factory. But what use was she to them – she was an orphan, a ward. She could not make a good match because she had no inheritance, and with the little one on the way she would be more of a hindrance than help. Just another mouth to feed. That golden disk could get her aunt and uncle through the winter, even give them a second chance to succeed – to Sora there had been little doubt as to what her duty was.

She said goodbye to no-one. Her guardians would try to persuade her otherwise, she knew, and who else was there for her to say farewell? Ken? What for? She knew those noblemen – there was only one thing they wanted a young girl for, and even if she ever left the castle with her virtue intact, her reputation would surely be torn to bits. How the other girls would rejoice at her falling!

As soon as she was out of sight of the city, she pulled the reins on the horse, straddled it like a man and nudged it into a gallop, determined to get to the castle before she changed her mind and cowered back. She would not be afraid. Whatever was in store for her, she would not let her aunt and uncle suffer something they had neither invited, nor deserved.

The further she rode into the countryside, the wilder and more beautiful it got. Autumn had touched the woods and the hills, turning everything around her into a feast of yellow, golden, brown and green. At some point, the grass grew as tall as her horse's muzzle, and if it hadn't been for the compass, she would have easily lost the road. The longer she rode, though, the darker it became – it was not even noon, and a heavy fog had fallen all around her, blocking even the sun. Although she had never been in these parts before, she had no trouble recognizing the landscape her uncle had described.

She told herself that she wasn't afraid. But as she saw a village outlined in the fog, she couldn't help the longing that bubbled into her chest.

But the village was empty. It was the middle of the day, and yet there wasn't a single soul on the streets. She looked in the inn, the stables, even knocked on one of the doors of the houses. Everything was abandoned. There was a look about the whole place that made her think that it hadn't been lived in for a very long time. The curtains were drawn and the hedges were overgrown, there were no carriage marks in the road.

"Alright…" she said to herself, crossing her arms defiantly. "Alright, this is definitely not something I expected." She consulted the compass, but the arrow was spinning so fast that she had no idea what it wanted to do. She looked at the horse. "Well, I guess we're stuck here for a while. What do you say, do we come back or do we wait?"

The horse stared at her, then bent down to graze. Sora frowned and pulled at his reins. "Now, now, don't do that. It might be poisonous." The grass was abnormal, tall and dark with thick leaves. The whole town seemed covered with it. When she parted it with her foot, looking for some indication that would tell her what it was, she felt a thorn. "What is this thing?" she wondered and knelt down to get a better look.

Roses. They were roses. Sora blinked, confused, but there was no mistaking the thorny stables. Why had she mistaken the bush for grass? She looked around more and found a single bud nestled close to the ground. It was a very dark red, so deep in fact that it looked black. Without thinking, she reached out to touch it, before the smell hit her and she pulled back as if she was burned.

It was pungent. Like the perfume of Mrs. Dowers, her old schoolmistress, only ten times as strong. It was as if it had been fermenting for a hundred years in spirits instead of bloomed on a branch for a single year. Just as Sora was about to get up and let the horse do as he pleased, she felt a cold wind rush at the square, and a second later the mount started fidgeting restlessly. As she was trying to comfort it, a second gust hit her, so much stronger than the previous one, which sent her skirts flying all around her. The houses gave a series of creaks, as if the old wood was moaning, and a second later a black carriage rolled down the streets and stopped right in front of her.

Sora gawked – the carriage stood there in its old-fashioned splendor, but had no-one to drive it, nor anything to move it forward. Her own horse, already spooked, took full advantage of her stupor, pulled free and high tailed out of the square as if the devil was on his feet, taking away her saddlebag and possessions. Sora yelled after it, tried to give chaise, but took three steps and gave up. What for? It was about as useful as chasing wind, and twice as undignified.

She turned on her heel to look at the carriage, which hadn't moved from its spot. The door swung open, inviting her in. Well… what other options did she have? She gathered herself up and sat in with as much dignity as she could muster.

Before she was even settled comfortably, the door slammed shut and the carriage started moving, first slowly, and then picking up a speed that could match the one of a steam train. She grabbed onto the walls at first, starting at every sharp turn and road bump, but slowly, she became more accustomed to this mode of traveling. Outside, the trees and bushes came and went in a blur.

As her initial fear slowly wore off, Sora started to become more and more conscious of her surroundings. The interior of the carriage was lavish, but old-fashioned, something she had only seen in country plays and her imagination. Roses was the ongoing motive of the interior, with the decoration on the walls, the color of the seats and even the scent. She felt like she was in an orchard.

Sora wasn't a very superstitious person – she had been taught by their schoolmistress for two whole years after the time when it was considered necessary, she helped her aunt with the management of the budget and she read through the journals her uncle received from the city every week or so. Hers was a century of inventions and innovations, discovery and enlightment. Why, every time she turned around someone had put two things together to make something that would turn a troublesome chore into an easy task. If people could cross for a few hours a distance that would require days of walking, what stopped them from making a carriage that ran without horses or horsemen? Her host, clearly, liked to move ahead of his century.

But the deeper she went into the woods, the more her logic wavered, and she began to feel like her uncle – as if the old world was pressing down around her, threatening to grab her by the throat. Just as she was about to sink into melancholy, the carriage started to slow down and gave her a chance to better look at her surroundings.

* * *

The first thing she saw was a hedge, so tall that she had to crane her neck to see the top. Then, as they passed a pair of wrought iron gates, she opened the window to get a better look, but before she could do more than peer into the darkness the window slammed closed again, nearly taking her nose out. She glared at it, wondering if she ought to try and wrestle it open again, when she registered the smell – more roses, just as pungent as the one on the city square. She was sure she would end up desensitized before she even crossed the threshold of her new home.

Her nervousness, which she had been pointedly ignoring all day long, seemed to quadruple as they pulled into a stop and she was allowed to step down. From her viewpoint, she could barely make out the outline of a gate and a few pale windows through the fog, but when she looked down at her feet, she saw the roses perfectly – huge bushes, heavy with blossoms that were bigger than her palm. Self-conscious, she gathered her skirts around her so that they didn't brush against the unnatural bushes and entered.

The inside of the house didn't look like what her uncle had described. While light was scarce, she could see that everything appeared untouched and in perfect order. No overturned tables, no torn portraits, and definitely no claw marks on the walls. She shuddered and looked around. Nobody had come to receive her. "Hello?" she called, worried. "Is anyone here?"

A torch lit itself right in front of her, showing her a corridor she hadn't noticed before in the twilight. As she approached it, another torch, deeper in the corridor, lit. "So this is how we're doing this?" she wondered aloud, furrowing her brow. This was definitely new, but she had read something about how fire needs something called 'oxygen' to burn and how people used this to tell if mines were safe – bring a candle and if the flame goes out, it's not safe. Then again, with mines, the flame could ignite the whole thing, but that theory could explain the phenomena Sora was witnessing. Minding her step, she moved forward.

The torches showed her the way to a parlor. Inside was the same semi-darkness as in the rest of the place, with the only halo of light coming from a cozy fire. There was a chair and a couch pulled up, and a table set for an afternoon tea. Sora, who had barely eaten all day, felt her stomach growl. But her eyes were searching the room, looking for a trace of her host.

She noticed an irregular shape right at the edge of the light from the fireplace. She squinted to make more sense of it, and gasped when a pair of eyes opened, seemingly in mid-air, and looked straight back at her.

"So you've found me," her host said in a low, rumbling voice. "And here I was hoping to surprise you."

Sora blinked. The eyes cocked on the side, curious.

"Are you mute, perhaps, girl?"

"No, of course not!" Sora said quickly, before remembering where she was and who she was speaking to. "I apologize. Good evening, my lord."

"Good evening," her host said. "What is your name and what are you doing here?"

She thought it was pretty obvious what she was doing there, but swallowed back her defiance and said meekly: "My name is Sora Naegino. I… I've come to settle my uncle's… debt."

"Debt? You mean to make sure I don't kill him for trying to steal from me," he said. "Have you come on your own free will, to stay in this castle forever?"

Forever? Her mind reeled, but upon better consideration, what other choice did she have? Forever was actually quite a lucky option for someone in her circumstance. "Yes, I have come on my free will to accept whatever fate lies for me here," she said.

"Do you?" There was a trace of amusement in her host's voice as he spoke. "Very well, then. I am the master of this house. You may call me Leon."

"But that is…" she began, scrambling for her manners. "That is too familiar, my lord."

"We don't care much for titles here," the dark shape said. "I have not been anyone's lord in many years now, nor do I particularly wish to be given that title back. You will call me Leon, and I shall call you Sora. Miss Naegino is too much of a mouthful." Indeed, he spoke her surname with difficulty, almost moaning or howling the vowels. "Well? Are you going to stand by that door all day?"

Startled, she scrambled inside, but didn't close the door. She stepped closer until she stood by the other end of the circle of light, reluctant to step any further. Her host had pulled back a few steps, but even with the thick carpet, she thought she heard an extra set of steps. They regarded each other for a long time, before she found her voice. "May I… may I light some candles, Mr. Leon? I can't see very well in here."

"No, I don't suppose you would." A dry chuckle sounded from the darkness. "Perhaps I should have given you some warning before you came here, but unfortunately… well, you'll see soon enough. Perhaps you ought to sit down."

"I'm not afraid," she blurted, and immediately wished she hadn't. "I mean, my uncle… he… warned me that… he said… he mentioned you don't like to boast with your looks."

"You're not much of a liar, are you?" he deadpanned. Then, with a sigh, he moved forward into the light. Sora blinked, unsure what she was seeing, and then her brain began to slowly catch up with her, recognizing the muzzle, the paws, and the fluffy tail.

It was a wolf. A beast as tall as her waist, even more, with silvery-gray fur and pale, pale eyes.

It was wearing a heavy brocade gown and a pair of breeches.

The picture was so comical – this beast in his mismatched human clothing, that she giggled hysterically. She didn't know why. She didn't really care. But it struck her as the funniest thing in the world.

Leon cocked his head to the side, the wolf equivalent of a raised eyebrow, perhaps. "Something amusing?"

"I apologize," she gasped. "I'm really sorry. It's just… not what I expected."

It wasn't. Her uncle had said he was a monster, but she had supposed he was just a poor soul with an unfortunate appearance, like the participants in the freak show in the circus – the Bearded Lady, the Human Snake, things like that. But this… this was a wolf, a wild beast. An animal that could somehow speak and dress itself and understand legal matters. It was simply unreal.

"Why are you…" she paused, considered "…I didn't know wolves wore human clothing."

"Ah, that…" Leon said, and she could swear she saw a little flame of merriment in his eye. "I confess, I do not usually have much use for this. However, since a lady will be residing here, I believe it will be inappropriate of me to walk around naked, wouldn't it?"

"A lady?" Sora blinked, before realizing he was talking about her. "Oh, I'm no lady, I'm just a girl. And you're not…" She stopped dead in her tracks and blushed.

Leon seemed pleased with himself. "Won't you come out into the light?" he asked. "My eyes are good, but I'd rather see you in the light."

Sora shook the sleepiness that had settled over her and stepped forward. Then, as an afterthought, she knelt down so that they could be on the same level. Leon sat back on his haunches and regarded her carefully. From his place, he smelled slightly of wet dog, smoke and, surprise, surprise, roses.

"That's a rather unusual color for hair," was all he said, before nodding towards the chair. "Sit down."

She scrambled up, while he jumped effortlessly on the couch and settled there. "I apologize that there are no servants to attend to you at the moment, but I'm working on a way to rectify that. Please, serve yourself."

Sora turned to the table obediently, but only saw one teacup. "What about you?" she asked.

Leon held up a paw. "I'm afraid this form is not suitable for handling cutlery and crockery."

"Oh…" she trailed off, unsure.

"Eat," he ordered. "I heard your stomach growl from across the room. Stage coaches must have become worse than before, if you travelled all day without putting anything in your mouth."

"Oh, I didn't come with the coach. I mean… that is to say… I did, but I rode to the village. The horse got scared away, though, when the carriage arrived." She frowned, remembering the saddlebag and her things in it. She had packed lightly, taking only the biggest necessities, but that meant she didn't have a fresh change of clothes, or drawers. Sora looked at herself in the spotless spoon and winced, taking in her wrinkled, brown dress and mussed up hair, rough shoes and muddy cloak. How ugly she must look, she thought, admits all this splendor.

Her host, though, seemed preoccupied with other things. "You rode? What of your luggage?"

"The horse rode away before I could take down the saddlebags," she mumbled, ashamed.

"Saddlebags? What of your trunks? Are they still at the inn?"

She looked away.

"Sora," her host insisted. "Where are your things?"

"I only had enough to put in the saddlebags. I couldn't carry much," she said and felt the red spots burning on her cheeks.

"What of your uncle? Wasn't he of assistance?"

"Icamealone."

"What?"

"I…" Sora swallowed back her shame and looked at him in the eye. "My aunt and uncle did not come with me. I… he wanted to return your money, but was still unwell. I came without their knowledge of blessing."

For a long while, the only sound in the room was the cracking of the fire. Leon sat, perfectly still, watching her intently. She wanted to fidget, but held still and watched him back calmly.

"You came all the way here with barely more than the clothes on your back and the compass to guide you?" he asked slowly.

"Yes."

"Without telling your guardians or asking a second opinion?"

"Yes."

"And you travelled for miles in this wilderness, unchaperoned, and rode on horseback for the whole last leg of your journey?"

"Yes."

"Weren't you scared?"

"No." She really hadn't been.

"You did not care that you could have been captured, raped and beaten within an inch of your life? You did not care if you left your loved ones in the middle of the night, letting them fear for the worst?"

She swallowed. "I left them a note," she murmured, then straightened up. "My aunt and uncle are poor already. They're expecting a third daughter. My cousins are young. I couldn't let my uncle die simply because he walked into a house looking for shelter."

Something, she didn't know what (wolves are hard to read, even if they stood close enough for you to look at them), changed in Leon's demeanor. His posture stiffened. He gave her a cold look. "You don't know what your uncle was trying to do. I don't think he did either."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "It doesn't matter. He's still young. He can support his family. I'm…" ugly, unlovable, undesirable "…just a woman. I can't help them otherwise."

Leon regarded her for a long time, then leaned forward and pushed a plate of sweets towards her. "Eat," he said. "Obviously, we must discuss a lot of things, but I will not do so while you're sitting there looking halfway to the grave."

Too tired to argue, she obeyed. He said nothing, but every time she felt self-conscious or gluttonous, he urged her on, until she really couldn't eat anymore. Then he jumped down. "Come then," he said. "I'll show you to your rooms. Dinner will be in two hours," he went on as he led her through different corridors and stairwells, the torches blazing in their path. "You'll have enough time to freshen up and relax. There are no clocks, but you will be notified as to the location of the dining room and such. There will be servants to attend to you."

She noticed how he never seemed to need to open doors – they were always gaping. She wondered if it was a permanent arrangement, what with the master walking around on four paws, and stressed on whether or not she was supposed to remember that. But when they reached a door, it surprised her by swinging wide open without her having to touch it.

"There is a lock on the inside," he said, reading her thoughts. "You'll find everything you need in your rooms. That's about everything for now, I think, except…" he seemed to hesitate, but then reached a decision. "You're free to roam the castle as you please. However, there is a set of rooms on the second floor which I'd rather you didn't enter."

"Where the… money is?" she asked, remembering what her uncle had said.

Leon looked like he might have cringed. "Yes. The money is in no present currency, so it'll be of little use, but if you need anything, it could be delivered." He paused, considering. "That is all. I will see you at dinner."

And without waiting for her to answer, he turned and left.

* * *

A/N - Sorry it took so long. I'm travelling tomorrow (ugh), so wish me a quick journey and keep your fingers crossed that these idiot English don't close the airport for a dusting of snow.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter four**

If Sora had any expectations about what her arrival would entail, this was probably going to be on the bottom of the list. The rooms she was in were lavish, a whole apartment that was just for her use. A bathroom, a sitting room, a bedchamber, each as big as the parlor she had just left, with large windows and a fire in every fireplace. The décor was like something out of a dream, with old furniture, gorgeous little art pieces all over the room, everything in soft, pastel colors. She smelled beeswax and rosewater, and, sure enough, there was a huge vase full of large blossoms perched in every room.

Not caring if she was going to let the cold in, Sora carried the vases to her sitting room window and opened it wide. The scent, so beautiful at first, had started to suffocate her with its sweetness. In fact, the luxury of the rooms was hurting her eyes.

But there was a bath drawn for her, in one of those old-fashioned claw-foot tubs, where she could soak until she pruned. It was big enough for her to actually float around in it. She washed off the dirt and grime from three days worth of a journey, and when she finally rose, there was a robe and towels for her convenience.

As she sat in front of the blazing fire, letting her hair dry off, Sora mused once again as to the reason of her coming here. She did understand if her host was angry with her uncle and wanted to punish him, but what use could he have of a girl? Her initial assumption was obviously wrong, so what would he want with her? The most obvious answer, to eat her, chilled her to the bone. She was a country girl, clearly too bony to be any tasty, but she supposed that he could feed her until she gained enough weight and then chase her through the forest. Sora wondered how she could contemplate a gruesome demise so easily, and, indeed, the fate she pictured for herself was hardly wonderful. But she thought of her host, who put on human clothing for her sake, and tried imagining him trying to eat her. It seemed ridiculous, but then again everything was lately. She lived in a castle full of roses which she was starting to dislike, with invisible servants and a wolf-master.

But there was another alternative, and it was a lot more chilling than the one she had just imagined for herself. Sora looked around again. Even if she had eaten like a famine survivor just an hour before, even if there was dinner soon, there were bowls of fruit and candy all over the place. She picked up a peach carefully and sniffed it. It was ripe and it smelled so good it made her mouth water, as if it was liquid sunlight under the skin. The grapes were the same, so sweet she got drunk on the scent alone. The chocolates looked decadent. But she didn't bite into them, didn't eat. Like the roses, they worried her, as if they were something unnatural. Maybe they were.

It had been a long time since she had last gone to church, but she remembered the old admonishment never to eat fruit out of season. Of course, in orchards, you could find melons in the winter, but she doubted they tasted any good. And the rose on the village square – little and dark, yet the smell was stronger than ever. It was autumn – blooms were supposed to be long dead, and no orchard in the world could nurse them to this beauty.

She shivered as she remembered the old pastor telling them the Devil's minions often tempted humans with the thing their heart desired most. This time, her skepticism wavered and she truly felt afraid, but she thought to herself that it didn't make sense. She had come expecting nothing more than to be used for the pleasure of some deformed nobleman and then tossed aside. She hadn't been offered these lavish rooms until she'd taken tea with the master. She hadn't even been offered food until she'd confirmed that she had come on her own free will to stay forever. What was the point of tempting her after she'd come.

But her uncle? He'd been greeted in the dark. He'd been caught trying to steal money, something he'd been in a desperate need of at the time. He'd had to die, or send someone in his place. Sora wondered if Leon planned on sending her uncle word that she was alright. Would he even think of it?

As she thought, there was a rustling behind her and she turned around to find a long scarf lying on her bed across with a note: Across the eyes.

She was expected to blindfold herself? Sora looked around, expecting some kind of joke, but none came. Then, expecting the worst, she picked the scarf up and did as she was told.

It was as if she had opened the door to the oven – a hot wave engulfed her and she felt herself being tugged left and right, pushed and prodded and stripped and dressed, but before she could even raise her hand to her face and uncover her eyes, it was over. Cautiously, she pulled the blindfold off and looked down, expecting the worst. Instead, she found herself wearing a dress with huge puffy sleeves and a skirt twice as wide as her. It was heavy and thick, but, she noted to her satisfaction, too stuffy to make her any appetizing. She also noticed that the woman who it was supposed to be for had had a bigger bust than hers.

She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and crossed her hands angrily. "This will not do," she said, eyeing the white wig, the caked make-up, the large jewelry. She looked around for the maid, but it was nowhere in sight. She then noticed a door by her right and peeked inside – sure enough, it was what was called the dressing room, and it was just as lavish as the rest of the apartments. Some dresses were propped on mannequins, others were neatly folded up in brocade boxes. There were boxed wigs and hats and shoes, and, in one corner, a chest full of earrings and necklaces, rings and bracelets, of every size and shape. Ropes of pearls so long she could play jump rope on. Jewels so big and heavy they would break her arm. Things she didn't even recognize and about twenty of each she did. It was mind-boggling.

She managed to get rid of the wig and most of the jewelry by the time the dinner bell rang, but the make-up had to stay until she came up. Resigned, she went down, telling herself again and again that if being eaten was her fate, she'd accept it like a woman and not cry… much.

* * *

Leon was waiting for her at the dining room, and stood up straighter when she entered. He considered her for a moment, and she considered him back. Finally, when he didn't say anything, she ventured: "Is this really how you want me to look like on dinner?"

He let out a sound that looked a lot like a snort of amusement, but covered it up. "No, indeed. I'll have something more… up-to-date brought up soon, and until then, I'll talk to your maid."

"Speaking of which…" she said, feeling awfully bold "…she made me wear a blindfold. Is this normal?"

He waited for her to sit down before getting up on the chair on the head of the table. He appeared perfectly presentable, even as a wolf, while she felt like a little girl who had come down to dinner after playing dress-up with her mother's things.

"The blindfold was my idea," he said as he settled onto the chair. "I thought it would be better if you were introduced to the castle's weirdness one thing at a time, although you have already figured that out."

Sora blinked as Leon raised a paw to ring the bell. Immediately, a tray was wheeled in, dishes were disposed of and uncovered, a linen napkin was spread across her waist… and everything happened by itself. The china flew across the air and landed with precision, cutlery was placed, as if invisible servants moved in and out. Then the tray wheeled itself out and she was left staring at a richer meal than she had ever seen in her life.

She also noticed that only she was given a plate. Leon reclined back in his chair, waiting for her to eat.

"Won't you…" she began, gesturing around uneasily.

"I can't hold a knife and fork. And raw meat is more suitable for this form," he explained, even though that did little to calm Sora's nerves. "I've already eaten for tonight."

"Then," she paused "…why do you want me down… I mean, I'm not ungrateful but wouldn't it be better if I ate alone then?"

He sighed. "If you are uncomfortable eating in front of me, I will have your meals served in your room. However, I need to discuss some things with you tonight, the ground rules of the castle, so to speak. I think it'll give you some peace of mind, so to speak."

She bowed her head. "I'm not uncomfortable eating in front of you… it's just that…"

"Yes?"

"It's just that you don't eat."

Leon seemed to shake that off. "You needn't be."

"But…"

"I am a wolf, for all intents and purposes," he said, a little louder than he ought to have, then added in a calmer tone. "My eating is what drinking port and smoking cigarettes is to normal men. It is not to be done in front of ladies." She was about to protest that, for the umpteenth time, she was not a lady, but held her tongue. "It's nauseating. And I don't think you'd want to see me like that. Now… tell me a little about your hometown."

Sora did as she was told, albeit reluctantly. She spoke of her home, the town, and little by little, started to forget her audience. She told Leon of the red rains and the railroad and the mine, and the farm and how the mill-owner had suggested they sell to make up for their losses. She told him of her cousins, Rosetta and Yume, and how excited her guardians had been about the new baby.

She even managed to eat. By the time dessert and coffee were served, she had gone silent again. Leon had been listening carefully this whole time, contemplating her words. Finally, he said: "You are well informed."

She blushed. "Not at all. It's just that I love to read and I studied for longer than others, but I don't think of myself as smart."

"Intelligence has nothing to do with education. In fact, I believe it's one of those things that happen in spite of teachers. If I lined up ten young women from your village right now, I doubt they would have noticed the things you did."

"What difference does that make?" She had always considered her intelligence a problem rather than a blessing. Men didn't like women who thought. Oh, yes, as long as they held out the minimum required level of conversation, it was alright, but being smart was always a hindrance. Smart women knew when their husbands didn't treat them right. Smart women knew when it was wrong. Smart women were always miserable, if for no other reason than simply because they knew.

"To me it does. And it will do you good," Leon said.

"Why? What do you want from me?" she blurted before she could stop herself.

Her host eyed her for a long time, then his eyes crinkled with a smile. "Why don't you tell me what you think I want from you?"

"Umm… eat me?" She honestly didn't know why she said this, but if the laughter she heard was any indication, she had made his day.

"Certainly not. That would completely defeat the purpose of your coming here."

She regarded him long and hard. She didn't want to say it, but her fear got the better of her. "Then… are you after my soul?" She thought of the roses again, and the ripe fruit. The table was set with seasonal dishes, each more lavish than the one before, but none of them looked so unnatural.

Leon had fallen silent, his eyes dark as he measured her up. Then he said: "Do you believe in the Devil, then?"

"I believe there are things out there which I don't understand. And I believe that this castle is unnatural. There's only one way to explain it." She said.

He thought about it for a long time, then cocked his head on the side. "True, but I doubt your soul will be in any peril in here. Your religion glorifies sacrifice, does it not? You came here on your own free will, with no other incentive than the well-being of your uncle. What is more, you expected the worst – to be devoured, first metaphorically, and then literally." She blushed bright red, and that only seemed to cheer him up. "Your soul is safe. I wouldn't be able to take it even if I tried."

She fidgeted. "But what are you? I mean," she blushed "I didn't mean to be disrespectful, it's just…"

"I am a wolf," he said. "I have been for a long time. But I will also be Leon to you. That's all you need to know. And before you ask, I do not believe in the Devil or his counterpart. I hope that will be alright with you."

Sora looked down, embarrassed. "Then what do you want with me?"

Leon considered that, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. He looked like he was weighing his options, trying hard to decide, before saying: "Well, companionship, most of all. You noticed that the servants here are not… the most talkative. And I have been up here a long time. There are visitors, rarely, but I miss conversation. Which is why I said your being intelligent will be of use to you. And you can write and read, can you not?"

"Yes?"

"Then it'll be even better. As you can see, my form is not good with anything man-made – that includes quills and forks and glasses. Keeping a correspondence is much easier when you have someone who is able to write under dictation. And every once in a while, when visitors are inevitable, you'll have to play housekeeper to help me pull the wool over their eyes."

"Can't you…" Sora paused, considered. "Is this normal then?"

"I'd say not. But you'd make it much easier."

"But why…"

"It's late," he interrupted her. "I think it's best that we adjourn this discussion for a later time. You learned the most important things. And learned a little about you." He jumped off the chair and waited for her to follow him. He walked next to her side as they exited the dining room, and the torches lit two paths for them. "You room is on the right. When you need to go somewhere during the day, I suggest you keep count of the doors and turns. If you get lost…" he considered as he started to walk away. "Yes, if you get lost, call for me. I'll find you."

"Alright." She paused. "Thank you."

"And Sora…" he called behind his shoulder as she debated whether to just say goodnight or curtsey. "A word of advice. Lock your doors and do not come out at night."


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter five**

If Leon had lied when he said he didn't want to eat her, Sora could find nothing in his behavior that would indicate it. For the first few days, he left her alone, knowing full well that the castle and its strangeness needed time to grow on her. He didn't show himself, even for tea, and had her meals brought in her room to spare her the trouble of getting dressed for dinner (truly, a scarring experience).

He also gave her a wide breadth – didn't summon her or keep her locked up, didn't make her do anything she didn't want to do. The first few days, he was no more than a ghost, lingering on the fringes of her conscious, keeping a polite distance. In fact, the only time he announced himself was to tell her that the dressmaker catalogues had arrived and that she needed to let her maid take her measurements.

And Sora, while still determined not to trust him, was grateful for it.

Clothes arrived a week later and in spite of the fact that she had chosen the plainest, most unassuming dresses that were in the catalogues, she saw that there were a lot of things she hadn't ordered amongst the delivery, including a riding habit, three evening dresses in bright colors, a nightgown made of _broderie anglaise_ and all the accessories and shoes that went with it, along with make-up and expensive scents. As she sorted through them and put them away (her maid had tried to interfere, but she had brushed her away), she noticed a box that was almost twice as big as the others, made out of white cardboard and tied with a ribbon like a present. She wondered if she had gotten it by mistake, but, sure enough, her name was on the tag on the side.

When she pulled the ribbon open and lifted the lid, she needed several minutes to make out what was inside, but when she did, her jaw dropped open and she literally had her breath knocked out of her.

It was a ball gown, so beautiful, so elegant that she was afraid to even touch it. Gingerly, she lifted it up by the shoulders and admired the excellent needlework, the sweeping lines, the lovely motives in white and gold. She couldn't believe something so beautiful was given to her. Girls like her simply weren't given such gifts.

She put it away and closed the lid, before steeling herself and walking out into the corridor. "Mr. Leon?" she called. "Can I… speak to you?" She knew it was stupid, standing there and just yelling into the air, but he had said she could call him whenever she got lost, and now was as good a time as any. She heard, rather than saw him – the click-click-click-click of his paws against the stone floor gave him away – and a second later he emerged from the corner, his clothes slightly askew as if he had just put them on for her sake.

"Good day, Sora," he said politely as he approached her. "Is there something you need?"

"No. I just… um…" She wanted to thank him, but suddenly the cold corridor didn't feel like the right place to do so. "Would you like to… um… take tea with me?"

He seemed surprised by her request, but accepted anyway. It wasn't until they were in her sitting room that Sora realized she didn't know where the kitchen was, or how she could order tea to be brought up. Luckily, the invisible servants, always happy to serve, wheeled in tea and scones within seconds, and even had a large bowl for Leon to drink in. He looked slightly annoyed at their antics, but since Sora didn't object to seeing him drink, he didn't either.

"I wanted to thank you," she said once she was sure they were left alone again. "About the clothes."

"It's nothing. Do they suit your taste?" he asked.

"They're… more beautiful than anything I've ever owned," she said honestly. "You really… I didn't need that many."

Leon gave her a long look. Although she hadn't had the time not the opportunity to study him a lot, she had noticed something very weird about him – his silences often stood in place of normal human gestures. It was as if he was trying to smirk, or cock an eyebrow, or narrow his eyes, but couldn't, because the wolf's muzzle was not equipped to portray such human emotions. It startled her.

"It has been a while since I last had a lady guest here, but it's my understanding that what I ordered for you is considered a necessity for a lady's wardrobe, is it not?" he asked. "In fact, I expect that more deliveries will have to be made."

More deliveries? Her head span. "No, no, really, that's not necessary. I can make do with probably the third of what you got me. I don't have to go out, make calls or host parties, so there's really no need… That ball gown alone probably cost more than my uncle's farm!"

She blushed, feeling bold and ungrateful and ashamed. At home, she would have never dared make such a speech. She thought of the mill-owner and how he'd tried to bully her – she would have never stood up to him like that. What was it about Leon that made her so outward? Was it perhaps his form? Or was it him saying that her intelligence did not intimidate him.

However, he was the one who seemed smart now, seeing through her as if she was made of paper and getting straight to the point: "Is the cost of the clothes your real problem? Or are you still concerned about the wellbeing of your soul?" She looked down at her hands, embarrassed. The truth was, she had been, a little of both, really. She wondered how her guardians were, and if her uncle had managed to provide enough to get them through the winter and make sure her aunt was comfortable for her confinement. Leon went on. "I do not wish to frighten you, or make you feel bad. Your guardians will be alright, and so will you. I only want you to be comfortable here."

Sora sighed, gearing herself up for a hard conversation. "My uncle is a good man. He may not be a brilliant businessman or a financial genius, but he is a good man. I don't believe for a minute that he would have stolen from you, or tried to weasel his way out of the bargain had I not intervened. You can't fault me for being afraid." Oh, how odd it was, to speak so calmly for such a hard subject.

Leon rested his head on the armrest of his chair, a gesture so completely human that for a moment, she forgot why she was being angry. Because even if he was a wolf, he was a rather handsome one, if you could even say that.

"Would it set your mind at ease if I told you that, had he come back on his own free will, ready to take on the consequences of his actions, I would have set him free?" he asked.

Sora eyed him carefully. "No, it wouldn't." Ever the honest one, she answered with what was on her heart. "He told you he had a wife and young daughters he needed to look after, yet you threatened his life anyway. Without him, the rest of his family would be doomed. It doesn't matter what you would have done because there really was no choice."

"To you, perhaps, but would the rest of the girls in your village think so?" He looked like he might smile. "Many of them would be grateful to let the old ones die so that the young ones could live."

"We would have died without him." She felt herself choke up. "Even if my aunt tries to make things work, it's him who brings the money at the end of the day. I… I… I would have never let him die! I couldn't!" she cried, and covered her mouth up to stop a sob from escaping.

Leon straightened up, but the gesture was more self-conscious and less threatening. If anything, he looked sad. And tired. "That is because you are an honorable, dedicated girl, and you love your guardians dearly." He said it all in such a calm way that she wondered if he hadn't rehearsed them. But there was nothing in him that suggested deceit – only sincerity. "I did not know that. However, you have no reason to fear me. I would never take advantage of you." Gingerly, he jumped from the chair. "I will leave you now. Is there anything else you need?"

"Work," she blurted before she could stop herself. "I… I'm grateful, for everything you did for me. But I really spend my time doing something."

He considered her, but didn't make a fuss. "Very well. You may stop by my study tomorrow after breakfast, and we'll see how well you can write under dictation."

* * *

The concept of a secretary was foreign to Sora, although she did know that rich men had people to do all the letter writing and organizing for them, especially those that ran several businesses. Once Leon explained the thing to her better, though, she realized that it wasn't any different than what she had sometimes done at home. In fact, her aunt had probably been acting as her uncle's secretary for a lot longer than she could imagine.

Her job was relatively easy – every week or so, the castle got mail via a private courier who was probably paid handsomely to make the trip. She opened the letters for Leon, then classified them in the order he suggested, wrote out his answer, and then sealed it. After a week, she was the one who met the courier with the new letters and picked up the ones addressed to Leon. The whole thing took up the morning hours between breakfast and lunch. Until tea, she helped him classify the old correspondence (and there was quite a lot of it), or she was allowed to go back into her room.

She still didn't trust him. He still gave her space. In the days when there was nothing to do, he didn't force her to spend time with him. She locked her doors at day as well as at night, and wore the plainest clothes she could find. She considered redoing some of the new dresses to fit her taste better, but one look at the excellent craftsmanship and she gave up.

The roses in her room were really starting to piss her off too. Although it had been nearly three weeks since she had arrived, the bouquets were still there, unchanged. At first she tried to get her maid to take them out. Then, when that didn't work, she tried to take them out herself – they were back on the table the next day. She tried killing them off (forgetting to water plants usually did that to them), but they stubbornly survived, as fragrant as ever.

It frightened her. She was well-aware that this was no ordinary castle, and that his master was no ordinary wolf, but how had he come about? Why was he in this form, yet wore human clothes and meddled in human affairs? Why did he bother to live among silks and candlelight when it was obvious he longed for the forest? She was offered a life a thousand times better than the one she had before, but at what price? What was it that kept Leon in his castle? The same thing that never let these roses die?

She was restless, fearful, tired. Her eyes sought simplicity, she needed fresh air. So one morning she just got up and went into the garden.

She had never expected it to be so… so… well, untidy. Though her one glimpse of it had been in the dark of the night, with only the scent of the flowers to indicate her location, she had never expected to see the boughs, so high and thick that the leaves looked dark and the blooms - inky. It was like she had stepped into an expensive drawing of a picture book, where everything was made by elaborate pen strokes.

Moving around was quite the adventure, as Sora found out. There was no trace of a road, not even a path, even though there had to be one for the carriage to take her all the way to the front door. Everywhere she looked, there was tall grass and crisscrossing roots.

And roses. Never forget the roses. The vile flowers were everywhere, in the bushes, in the ground, scaling the walls, and in full bloom, even though that by now they should have shriveled up and died like any other self-respecting plant out there. Still, there they were, fully spread and staring at her like millions of bloodshot eyes.

As Sora walked (or stumbled, or marched) through the unkempt bough, she discovered another curiosity – it was very warm, warm enough for her to shed the cloak and shawl she had wrapped around herself in preparation for a cold day out. Still, the sun seemed to shine brighter on that garden, if only because the high plants didn't let its light reach the ground. She felt like she'd been duped. And another thing – in spite of the place being a veritable paradise, there was not a single bird in it, not even the stubborn sparrow, which preferred the harsh winters to flying south. The more she went, the braver her steps got – somehow, she felt a conviction that there would be no danger of squishing a snake or stepping in an anthill in this place.

Finally, she reached what looked like a clearing (at least, there was a hole in the foliage that let some light shine down). She only had to stand in it for a minute to realize that it wasn't all the foliage that had blocked the sun – it was the mansion itself.

Craning her neck, Sora managed to count seven, eight, nine windows, before her eyes blurred and she lost track of the lineup. She blinked a few times to dissipate the tears that had began to sting in her eyes, but whether it was with fear or with the brightness, she couldn't tell.

The four corners of the castle boasted towers of dark stone, with high, narrow windows. There was a fifth one protruding from what looked like the centre of the structure, and between them, there were jagged rooftops and moldy statues. Gargoyles stared down at her from every ten feet. There were holes in different parts of the wall, and for a while Sora tried to figure out what they were. It wasn't until she saw the metallic sheen in one of them that she recognized a round shape, the familiar metal color, and then realized – cauldrons. Huge cauldrons. But for what? Lines from her old history book jutted out, reminding her how, centuries ago, large castles had used molten metals during sieges.

Her stomach did a roll and she hurried to go back inside, her desire to get out evaporating immediately as fear stirred inside her again.

The door she used was not the one she had taken on her way out, and she now found herself in an unfamiliar part of the house.

* * *

The first thing she noticed was the smell – dust and mould and dryness and memories. She stepped forward and heard a faint rustling, as if the stirring of dead leaves. Even before she reached to pull the dusty curtain away, she knew where she was – there was only one place that could be so dead and come alive so quickly. Bright light assaulted her and she had to blink a few times before her eyes adjusted, but as soon as they did, she knew she had been right – she'd walked straight into the library.

It was smaller than she had expected, but packed. The shelves were fully stacked, sometimes even overflowing. Tomes were piled on the table, on the step-ladders on the floor, without any thought put into order and classification.

Small clouds of dust rose around her legs as she moved about. Some books were thrown open on the floor, the corners slightly tattered. She bent down to retrieve them, before remembering that the master of the house was not one who could afford to climb ladders, seek volumes and leaf through. Curiosity got the better of her, though, and she picked up one of the books that had been, apparently, read and dismissed, to see what Leon liked to read.

It turned out to be a medical journal, with detailed, if inaccurate, sketches of the human body. Sora flipped through it with the amusement of a time-traveler who had stepped into a past era. Some of the articles, written in an old-styled longhand, were so inaccurate that even the laziest of the pupils in her home village would have known it to be complete nonsense. Others required more thought, but things like six fingers and rabbit's mouth were already scientifically explained.

She put it back into place, not knowing whether Leon would want to go back to it later, and chose another one. A journal, full of botanical notes in an elegant hand. A third one, bound in skin. The title was in some other language, and from the way the words were positioned, she guessed it was poetry of some sorts, although she didn't understand it. Sora flipped through the pages, her eyes taking in the expert calligraphy, until she reached an illustration and froze dead in her spot. Her eyes followed the brushstrokes, barely having time to recognize one thing before they caught another. Wings, tusks, horns, human head and breasts, a signature evil grin – all wrapped up in one grotesque form, so twisted and horrible that it defied the laws of nature. She was holding a demonology.

Putting it away as if it would burn her hands in any minute, Sora picked up something else, hoping, praying, that it was completely inoffensive. This time, she knew the archaic form of her own language, but the words she recognized made her head spin and cheeks flush. Putting it down fervently, she looked around, eyes seeking a distraction. When she finally settled into a chair with an album of aquarelle landscapes, she had at least managed to calm her raging heartbeat.

Sadly, the jewel tones and pretty pictures of sunsets and pastorals and horses didn't take her mind off what she had seen. And, in spite of her best efforts, her thoughts raced on.

This place was, beyond any doubt, very old. Stone had not been used as a building material for at least fifty years, at least not commonly, and such tall, large castles and mansions had not been build in at least a century and a half. A decade of heavy rains, strong winds, overflowing riverbanks and bad crops had weakened people even before the First Revolution. It (as they were taught in the schools) had been partly caused by bad management of the resources and horrible external politics. That had been a little before the Unification, the country still split in small states ruled by lords who didn't want to give up their powers. Wars were easy to break out, and the then-King had had trouble holding it together. In the end the people, exhausted, starved and beaten by disaster after horrible disaster, had risen and taken down the ruling class.

Afterwards, most of the chateaux and larger mansions had been taken down so that the wood and stones could be reused. New buildings were no higher than three floors, plus or minus an attic and a cellar, with compact rooms that didn't take a lot of firewood to warm. There was certainly no need for siege equipment after gunpowder had started to be more frequently used and soldiers traded swords for rifles.

That had been more than a hundred years ago.

She knew, of course, that not all buildings had been destroyed. The village right before the Hillsborough pass had been long deserted, the road had almost disappeared – clearly very few people came by. But how did their mail and city orders arrive? How come her uncle had decided to come by this way if it was unused? And why had the locals tried to discourage him, and then left him to his devices? It felt like there was something bigger at work here.

A thud sounded behind the shelves, and she leapt up, as if her guilty thoughts had taken some sort of form. Sora put the book down and looked around. But there was nobody there – she was alone.

* * *

"Are there any people coming by the house, other than the delivery boy?" she asked Leon that night. They'd done their work in the afternoon, and by the time he'd finished dictating the letter, it was already dinnertime. He'd had the invisible servants bring her supper in his office while they worked, and then she had simply stayed in her spot.

He eyed her. "People, no. There are the servants, but I'm not sure what you consider them as."

She didn't look at him, but she knew that he was lying. After she had heard that rattle, she had investigated the library very carefully, and behind one of the stacks, she had seen that the dust was disturbed. Not in the neat, elegant fashion that rabbits, foxes and, yes, wolves, sometimes left prints in the snow, but in long drags, which suggested not only another two-legged creature, but one wearing a petticoat as well. The trail seemingly vanished near the wall, which meant either or two things – there was a ghost in the castle, or just another woman who knew all the ins and outs and little passageways. There were bound to be some, in this place.

"Do the servants leave traces?" she asked.

Leon looked at her again in a way that suggested that her line of questioning was silly, but, upon seeing her face, considered. "There are… some of them that are not invisible. They might. Why?"

She shrugged. "Oh, I happened in the library today while I walked, and sat in for a while. I thought I heard a noise, and saw prints in the dust. They didn't look like something you might leave," she said it all in a casual tone, but trained her eyes on him, careful to see his reaction.

He actually seemed worried. "I don't think they would have spied on you. Do you say you were in the library? Did you tamper with anything?"

"Just looked at the titles. I didn't know what you were reading. I looked at some watercolors," she said.

He nodded, but his expression (if you could call it that), remained grim. So grim, in fact, that she asked: "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, not at all," he said, a little too quickly for her taste. "It's just that I haven't set foot in the library in ages. It's probably dirty in there." Leon had papers delivered for him from the city, which Sora had neatly stacked in the corner of his study. There were books on economics and business and numbers which he kept on the desk, and which were carefully and thoroughly worn. He had everything he needed, although her bafflement at a wolf caring for human affairs never lessened.

"I just happened in there by chance."

"It is just that the collection in there was mostly assembled by men," he went on. "Half the books in there would probably turn any priest blue, and the other half is no better. Hardly any of them are fit for the eyes of a young lady."

"Oh, I don't mind," Sora said, but then remembered one of the books and felt heat rise in her chest. "I mean, I don't think books are bad. It's just words. They can't do any harm."

Leon looked like he thought quite the opposite, but said: "If you want to dig around in it, be my guest. But I'll have the servants clean up first – some of the pieces are unsavory… even for a well-read young woman."

She ignored the insult. "So, you said some servants are not invisible?"

"Yes," he said at length.

"Can they… speak?"

"Yes."

"Then, if you don't mind me asking…"

"As I said, this place is strange. Its oddities are best introduced one at a time," Leon said. "However, if you insist on meeting them, you can do so tomorrow."

"Um, yes…"

"Well, if that's all, you should go," he said, focusing again on the paper in front of him. Knowing that it was her cue to leave, Sora nodded, rose to her feet, and wished him goodnight before going back up to her room.

* * *

That night, she dreamt of thickets and dust and ink sunsets. The creature from the pages of the demonology came to life and went after her, managing to scratch her knees playfully a few times. The wind moaned around her, and in spite of the fact that she was in a forest, the moon shone bright on her. She couldn't catch her breath. Her heart hammered in her chest. She looked around and saw no friendship, no comfort. The shadows twisted around her, turning into malicious creatures, opening her arms to her, waiting with knowing grins for her to go off the trail so that they could clamp their fingers around her throat.

Then, she felt a cool breeze hit her face, and for some reason it comforted her. Warmth engulfed her and suddenly, the nightmares drew back.

Her eyes opened. The moon shone, full and bright, through a crack in her bedroom curtain, but all was still. The forms that were becoming familiar to her did not hold any creatures of the dark. The covers were wrapped tightly around her, cocooning her in warmth, and in her sleepy state, she did not pause to wonder why she hadn't kicked them off in her flight from the monsters. For a while, she stared at the wall, teetering between awareness and dream, and just before she completely drifted away, she could swear she heard a sigh.

No dreams visited her until morning.

* * *

A/N - Exams are next week. Wish me luck!


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter six**

When Sora woke up, the sun was streaming through the open windows and her room was full of the smell of roses, coffee and toast. She lay in bed for a long moment, wondering what time it was, and then shot out of bed, terrified that she was late for her morning session with Leon. On the chair where she had laid out her gown was a small note: "Don't come down today." It was curt and to the point, almost rude, but a closer examination explained that. The script was jagged and clumsy, not written with a penholder or even a quill. She imagined he would have had to dip a nail in ink to write that.

Calmer now, she slipped on her clothes and ate her now cold breakfast while watching the gardens from her window. From the second floor, she could just see a little of the fence surrounding the garden and the road beyond it. Somehow, it was warm all around, even if the trees outside the castle walls were bare of leaves. She wondered if winter ever visited this place. And if it did, how would they gather firewood to keep warm?

She imagined Leon wouldn't care much for fires. As soon as the thought came, though, she banished it with a frown. Just because he was a… a… wolf didn't mean he didn't have feelings. If he cared enough to dress in clothes for her, if he cared enough to write, hell, if he cared enough to do business with town, he was probably just as human as she was. Just… more hairy… and with slightly different eating habits.

She didn't know why she felt so uneasy about her host. Certainly there was a logical explanation for this strange castle, yet her thoughts always wandered. She wanted, desperately, to find a sense of normalcy, even a small one, in her new situation, so that she could accept it. Sora tried to see past the claws, the dark humor, the fur, and tried to pick out the human traits. But it was hard. So very, very hard.

A knock resonated through the door. She jumped to her feet, startled. "Who is it?" she asked.

"The master said I should not come," a voice replied.

Sora blinked and, curious, opened the door. There stood a stunning woman with honey-blond hair and a friendly, open face. Her smile alone could outshine the sun.

"Hello," Sora said, blinking. Apparently, she'd been deprived of human company for so long that seeing one had rendered her speechless. "Would you like to come in?"

The woman nodded eagerly and stepped inside. It was then that Sora realized that, contrary to her initial impression, she was not a regular human. Her hair and skin had a glossy shine to them that didn't come naturally for anyone in the world. When she stepped forward, there was a telltale creak that gave her away – she was entirely made out of wood.

She stood in the middle of the room, looking expectantly at Sora, who, finally remembering her manners, asked her to sit down.

"Would you… um… like some tea?" Sora asked, feeling slightly foolish. It was just that she had never had a wish granted to her so easily – she didn't know what to do once it came true.

"Yes. I'm not a maid."

"Um…" Sora blinked.

"Worry," the woman said. "It's not alright."

"It isn't?"

The doll shook her head. "How do I not make you see…" she murmured, almost to herself. "My name is not Sarah."

"Oh… than what is your name?" Sora asked, starting to worry.

"Your name is not Sora."

"But it is!"

"Yes!" Sarah nodded enthusiastically.

It was then that it occurred to Sora that this was probably yet another one of the castle's oddities. "So… what you mean to say is that… you always say the opposite of what's on your mind?"

"No!"

"Is that a yes?"

Sarah nodded.

"Oh…"

Sora thought back on the sentences they'd exchanged, then picked up the teapot. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some tea? It… it would set me more at ease." She offered a smile, and though Sara's wooden face could not convey emotion past the painted features, her eyes seemed to shine with gratitude.

"No, thanks."

Sora nodded and poured. Then she and Sarah, with a little difficulty, started to converse. It turned out that once you got over your initial surprise, Sarah turned out to be a charming, even optimistic person – something that, given the master of the house, Sora hadn't expected. Indeed, Sarah didn't speak like a servant – she had a funny, self-depriving sense of humor that shone through even when Sora couldn't understand what she said.

But when they touched on the topic of the master of the house, Sarah immediately closed up.

"We talk about it," she simply said.

At that precise moment a box on Sora's dresser got knocked over and all of her hairpins and combs scattered around the floor. She got up, but Sarah was already kneeling, murmuring something to the air in a dated dialect. A breeze rustled the curtains, and then all was still again.

Sora looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights, completely lost.

"Oh, mind May," Sarah said. "She's just happy there's someone else to occupy the master's time."

"Miss Sarah…" Sora began. "Is this… I mean… Mr. Leon is not a… normal wolf, is he?"

"He is a wolf."

"I know. It's just… this whole castle… what happened here?"

Sarah sighed. "We can talk about it."

"Oh."

Sarah placed a comforting hand on Sora's shoulder, giving her a squeeze. "It was not a very brave thing you did, my dear. Fret. In time, you might not get used to it."

Sora tried to smile, but the good mood had dissipated completely. She looked around and saw no hope, no prospects for a change. The castle had been there, unchanged, for centuries. Who knew if she wouldn't become just and artifact in it? She had very few people to talk to, other than the master of the house, and she could never, ever gain her freedom again. All around her was a cage – a luxurious cage.

Leon chose that moment to ring the bell downstairs, summoning both Sora and Sarah to their duties. The latter gave the former an encouraging smile, before scurrying away in a rustle of petticoats.

* * *

Sora came down to the office to find Leon leaning over a piece of paper, a letter by the looks of it, with the canine equivalent of a frown. He didn't acknowledge her, so she stood in the doorway until he snapped.

"Well, get in already."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," he looked up. "I realize that I told you to stay up today, but this couldn't be delayed. Read."

She obediently picked up the paper. It was filled with a lot of technicalities she didn't understand, a lot of citations of former correspondence and former contracts, but the main gist of it was that some Mr. Killian insisted on meeting another Mr. Oswald on some business. She read and re-read it again, trying to understand what Leon wanted her to see, and finally asked the most obvious question:

"Who is Mr. Oswald?"

"That would be me," Leon sneered. "What do you think?"

"Umm… I don't understand this," she admitted.

Leon huffed, got off the desk and started pacing around the room. "Mr. Killian's family has been living in these parts for generations, and for a long time, they've had their sights set on this castle. They've gotten a lot bolder lately, bringing lawyers into the mess and trying to enforce a contract that was never fulfilled. And since I can't make an appearance in court, obviously, they have an advantage."

"What is the contract about?"

He growled low in his throat. "A marriage. They're trying to prove that they are the next in line after the family as far as ownership of the land goes. And, because only my business agent can legitimately claim to have seen me, they're arguing that the last descendant of the family has died and that they should step up as the owners. So far I've been able to keep them off by correspondence alone, but they will not be kept at bay. Mr. Killian wants to meet me and won't take no for an answer."

"So what will you do?" she asked.

He stopped by a small heap in the corner and pulled the rag over it. It was another doll, completely unmoving. He showed her a mechanism on the back and after her fumbling around a bit, the doll managed to sit up. "This is how I've dealt with intruders before," the doll said with Leon's voice, and she turned to look at him. "The official version my agent and everyone else is fed is that Leon Oswald, the only surviving heir to these lands, is crippled and therefore cannot leave the grounds. Whenever I did have to receive visitors, I'd present this guy as myself and throw my voice."

"And this… works?"

"For the most part. Usually, though, I didn't have to deal with the Killians," he spat the name. "They've wanted this land for a long time, Sora, and you can bet anything that they will do their best to throw me off balance. They'll be looking for inconsistencies and deceit. One wrong step and they'll have all the prove they need to move in here."

She blinked, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Well?" he finally growled.

"I'm sorry, but… why is this a bad thing again?"

He turned around to face her slowly, eyes narrowed to a slit. If Sora had been able to formulate a decent thought, she probably would have reconsidered the decision to anger a wolf.

"When the mill owner suggested that your aunt sells the farm, did you immediately jump at the opportunity? Even if it meant giving it away? Even if it was wrong?"

She opened her mouth to object. For her and her family, selling the farm would have meant food for a few months before they were forced to sell everything they had to save themselves from starvation. For him, it probably meant going back to the forest, where he belonged.

But she choked the words back, startled at her own cruelty. _He's not a wolf_, she thought. _He may look like one, but he wasn't. This is his home._

"What will you have me do?" she asked.

"I pose as a cripple," he said, picking up a ring of keys from the table and dropping them into Sora's hands. "A cripple needs a nurse."

She stared. "But I am not a nurse."

"You are, however, well-educated and highly observant. As my nurse, you will be able to sit during the meeting without rising suspicion – neither Killian, nor anyone he brings along will pay you any attention. You can touch the doll, rewind it if necessary, and divert attention if they get too close to the place where I hide. You see the sense in this, don't you?"

"Yes," Sora nodded. If she acted as a nurse, nobody would question her living in the castle. And, if any reports of this reached her guardians, the fact that she supposedly lived with a crippled man would probably lessen the sting of the betrayal. Hell, they could probably say she went away to work. Vicious reports might still spread, but at least it would spare them some torture.

But… how was she ever to do this? She had never so much as spoiled her dinner before, and now she was supposed to lie to complete strangers? She wasn't even sure she could lie – it was a skill completely foreign to her. Leon seemed to sense her distress, because he said: "Sora, this is an extremely delicate matter – I would not have asked you if I didn't know for certain that you have what it takes to do it. However, if you have the slightest doubt about this – about anything at all, tell me now so that I can make other arrangements."

With a sigh, she squared her shoulders. Luxurious or not, it was a cage she had stepped into at her own will. Any other fretting would be pointless.

"I'll do it," she said, and felt something inside of her going cold.

* * *

A/N - Sorry this took so long guys, and sorry it's so short. I've been battling the author's block on several fronts and it isn't over yet. I'm finding it hard to write lately, even if it wasn't all that hard.


	7. Chapter Seven

A little recap, since it has been so long. Sora Naegino goes to pay off a debt of her uncle in the castle of Leon Oswald - an eccentric aristocrat who turns out to be a... wolf. In a castle of invisible servants, dolls that talk backwards and suffocating flowers, Sora discovers some odd things about herself. And her employer.

**This chapter goes to Royalbk, who has worked her head off this week! Hope you get better soon, sweetie!**

* * *

_**Chapter seven**_

May had lain out her outfit for her before she woke up, and for once didn't try to put it on herself. Sora found herself sitting on the bed for a full minute, waiting for something to happen, but the most she felt was a chill from where her feet touched the floor.

No one showed up. Perhaps it was for the best.

Her limbs were leaden as she donned the simple gray frock. The starched collar seemed to suffocate her.

She tried going over the scenario that she and Leon had practiced earlier – her lines, her gestures, the mechanics of the puppet, but her thoughts were sluggish at best. Her joints hurt, as if she was recovering from a bad cold, and there was a dread coiled into her belly like a snake. Maybe it was nervousness, but… she wasn't so sure. Last night, she'd had that dream again.

The world was completely devoid of light – no moon, no stars, not even ambers in the hearth. She'd been lying in that darkness, trying to convince herself to sleep, but for some reason her body wouldn't let her. There was just something in that moment, something she could not comprehend and yet scared her to no end. Something which her mind didn't understand, yet her body had identified immediately – every atom of her being hummed, and the acute awareness bordered with an ache.

And then she had heard it – the slip – the thing she would have missed had her heart not been in her throat.

Another breath. There was somebody in the room with her.

She'd tensed immediately, prepared to scream, and then the feeling was gone, as quickly as it had come.

Sora usually didn't pay much attention to dreams. Usually, she'd been busy all day long, so by the time her head hit the pillow, she passed out until morning. Whenever she did dream, the reveries were brief and vivid, fleeting her grasp before she even rose from the bed. But this… this had been so visceral she had briefly wondered if it hadn't really happened.

That was silly, of course! Nobody could have been in her room. The door locked from the inside, and Leon had assured her that no harm would befall her while she was in his house. She could trust him, surely!

But… there was always that silver of hesitation, that splinter in her logic. How much did she really know about her host? He was a talking wolf, for crying out loud.

Well, a hundred or more years back, he would have been considered a demon, but Sora knew that in the Capital scientists made all sorts of new discoveries. Talking animals were probably as common as domesticated pets there. Granted, they probably couldn't run their own finances, but it couldn't be impossible. The church labeled them abominations, but people were willing to risk eternal damnation for the benefits science offered.

But Leon wasn't a science experiment. Could she really trust him?

What choice did she have?

That was what it all boiled down to. She didn't have to trust him, but in the end, the result was the same. Sora sighed and went over to the water basin to splash her face. Thinking so early in the morning wasn't good. And the day hadn't even started.

* * *

Leon was pacing in the drawing room when she arrived. She had helped set up the place the previous night – the doll was propped as far away from the fire as possible, close to a curtain where Leon would hide. The table was cleared of the tea things, but she would set it when the guests arrived. The stairwells leading to the upper floors were barred, and Sora knew the curtains on every floor would be pulled so that the rest of the mansion would look uninhabitable.

It scared even her. But if it had worked before…

"Sora," Leon said, "are you alright?"

She stopped chewing on her nail and straightened up. "Yes, yes I am."

"Hmm." He didn't look convinced. "I apologize," he said. "I realize that it's a very short notice."

_He asked me to lie, pretend to have qualifications I don't possess, and pose as a nurse,_ she thought. _In any other city, posing as a medical person can get me hung. And he's worried he gave me a short notice._

She took a deep breath. "It's alright. I can do this. I'm certain I can do this." _See?_ She was already good at lying.

Leon's real estate agent came first. His name was Kalos and he was from the Southern Provinces. He nodded at Sora, foregoing the traditional bow, and sat down next to Leon to start preparing for their less welcome guests. She wondered if this rudeness was the result of his upbringing, the situation, or her new station in life. She was a nurse, thus, she was supposed to be invisible.

Since Kalos was there, though, it meant that she had to start serving, which gave her an excellent excuse to run to the kitchen and back. She was just starting to set the table when she heard a bell toll – the new sign that someone was at the gate. She knew that the doors would open on their own, but it was up to her to be there to greet the guests and, if they were on horseback, tie their horses and bring them water.

There were three of them – two older men and a boy who looked like he had just turned twenty. They stared as she, sweaty and short on air, curtsied clumsily and offered to take care of their horses.

"Mr. Oswald is waiting for you in the drawing room," she said as rehearsed. "Please go in right ahead. It's the first door in the bottom of the corridor."

"We know where the study is," one of the older men said as he dismounted. "We have been here before, young lady."

Sora turned beet red and stammered, "Yes, of course, excuse me."

"Well," he went on, "the old bat still lives, does he? I suppose he's driven himself halfway mad at the thought of having people in this house."

"Oh, I don't know. If this girl has managed to stay, he's probably wearing down," his companion said and winked at Sora. "How's he, dear? Still kicking?" And then he laughed at his own joke. Sora didn't like him the least. He reminded her of the mill owner too much for comfort.

The boy was holding the reins of his horse and looked three shades of uncomfortable. To his credit, he actually followed her to the shelter (the stables were too far away), and helped her tie the horses and bring them water.

"Thank you," she said after they dumped the last bucket. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Oh, no problem." He smiled, but even though his words were awkward, his manner was everything but. Up close, he didn't look so young, even though he was still no more than a year or two older than her. Wisps of blond hair fell from under his riding cap and his eyes were clear and blue. He had Ken's boyish beauty, but he also held himself with a kind of swagger that suggested he had been places and seen things.

"I should… um… go wash…" she murmured, when she realized that she'd been staring. And that he had stared right back. "I'll be… err… right back."

She could feel his eyes on her as she made a very unladylike run for the bathroom.

* * *

By the time she made herself presentable and come back to the living room, the guests had managed to get in two fights (verbal, thankfully) with Leon and Kalos, and had turned the teapot over. She checked on the doll quickly to make sure everything was fine, and then she caught Leon's eye from behind the curtain. He nodded only briefly, but he was focused on the conversation.

"…being unreasonable!" the man who had first spoken to Sora was saying. "It's there, written black on white!"

"No record of the marriage exists," Leon said, his voice muffled by the curtain and sounding appropriately low. "Engagements are fine, but they're not legally binding."

"Perhaps you lost them."

"Or perhaps you aren't doing your job well enough."

Sora, who was in the process in refilling the teapot with hot water from the kettle on the fireplace, paused. She snuck a peek at the men, and tried guessing who was Mr. Killian. The irritable man looked like a lawman to her, not a spoiled heir. If she had to point one out, she probably would have said it was the lecher, but… maybe it was this time spent in the castle, but she had made of habit of mistrusting her initial judgments. The blond boy caught her eye and winked.

Her hand landed on the kettle and she immediately felt pain resonate. She tasted copper, and realized that she had bitten down on her tongue to keep from crying.

"At any rate," the lecher said, "the marriage you're disputing happened decades ago. Even before the Revolution. Papers were burned left and right…"

"…how convenient…" his companion murmured.

"…However, that doesn't mean that there aren't other ways to prove it." He picked up the engagement contract and looked it over. "It says here some properties were designated to be given to the groom's family when the marriage happened. The Ponticherry cottage, I believe, was meant to be home for the newlyweds. It's right across the river, isn't it?"

Leon grunted in what was probably his version of 'yes'.

"The cottage isn't there anymore, but we know the appropriate location. It's in the grounds of Mr. Killian." So not the lecher either. That left the blond. Sora felt odd, as if she had eaten something bad. He was supposed to be the man who was trying to chase Leon out of his home… yet he didn't look anything like one. She would have felt better if he was more like the lecher – at least then she wouldn't have qualms for lying to him.

"It's close to the borders," Kalos said, and for the first time Sora listened to his voice properly. It was low, but rich in expression, and cultivated. It was the kind of voice you stopped to listen. "Since the building itself doesn't exist, determining where exactly it was is a matter of interpretation."

"What about the water mill down in the valley? It's on the list as well."

"Those grounds have been claimed by the city council years ago. Have you found whose property it was before that?"

"Alright, I think we're running off course here, gentlemen," Mr. Killian said. He leaned forward in his chair and fixed the doll with a steady gaze. "Mr. Oswald, with all due respect, you are unreasonable. You live in this huge house, and even if you only occupy one floor, it's still no place for an invalid. It's a lot of work to keep it cleaned and warm, especially during the winter. You only live here with one nurse. She could barely take care of the horses on her own – how do you expect her to clean every day, chop wood, and start fires in addition to her regular duties?"

Sora blushed harder than ever, this time in indignation. Yes, it was true – she had needed help with the horses. But she never thought he would actually bring it up.

Leon gave another grunt. "Sora is more than capable of meeting all my needs."

"And she's quite an amazing cook, isn't she?" the lecher laughed and reached out for a plate of pastries, only to give Sora's sleeve a hard tug. She almost fell over the table. Mr. Killian went bright red, but his companions laughed loudly. Kalos gave them a narrow-eyed look. "What do you say, girl? Is it too hard here?"

"What? No, not at all!" It was true. When she had worked on the farm, it had been a lot worse. In comparison, she lived like a princess. But her reply came much too fast to sound believable.

"I think she's just shy," the irritable man said. "What's the matter? You had no other offers? The agency didn't have any more places for nurses?"

"No… I mean… It wasn't like that. I came because I wanted to."

"Yes, I'm sure that if you'd want to come here faced with 'unemployment', right, Sora?" She could feel his eyes on her, and she could tell he was also trying to guess her age and how she looked under her frock. Could she get any redder? "Let me ask you something, young lady. If you could choose between any employment in the world, would you stay here?"

She huffed and stood straighter. "We don't get what we wish for, sir." She made a move to stand next to the doll. This fire was getting too hot for her liking anyway.

The irritable man stood up with her, though. "Now just wait a minute. You can't tell me that you like to stay in this place!" He grabbed her hand. She gave him a steely look, but it was probably not very intimidating.

"Let go of me," she said.

"What does he pay you? Are you just his servant girl or are you carrying out extra services?"

Something in that comment made her see red. Maybe it was the fact that he was squeezing her hand so hard she felt actual pain, maybe it was saying the things she was afraid of were said about her back home, but it made her snap. He was standing right there, invading her personal space, and she had to get away. She grabbed onto his shoulder and brought her knee up between his legs, hard.

There was a sound like nothing she had heard before. It was high pitch, like a squeak of a mouse, but it had something else to it, a weird timbre that could only come from one throat. But she had never heard a human being make it.

The irritable man slumped back, mouth open wide. His companion jumped to his feet.

"You little bitch!" he roared and raised a hand. Sora heard Kalos' chair scrape the floor and Yuri making like he was about to stand up, but then she caught a movement from the curtain and her breath hitched.

Leon was in the room, stalking across the floor. His teeth were bared, and he was giving a very convincing snarl. His fur was standing on its end, and he truly looked like he could attack someone.

Everyone stared, petrified. Even the irritated man seemed to have forgotten he was in agony a moment ago. Kalos edged back towards his chair, where his riding cane was propped. Leon whipped his head around and barked.

"What the hell is this mongrel?"

"L… Len, don't." Sora knew she was being stupid, but she doubted the guests would be happy if they thought this was a wild wolf. She rushed towards Leon and grabbed the back of his neck, hands fisting in his fur. Trying to restrain him was like trying to stop a landslide – he was at least two hundred pounds of solid muscle, writhing back and forth. "Down, boy, down," she yelled, hoping that he would understand and act along.

"How can you keep this thing around the house? Without a leash, no less!"

"Down, boy!" Sora pulled back, and he took a few steps. "Please, don't yell, you'll scare him…"

"Are you crazy! This… this… thing can eat us! And it's the one being scared!"

"What is wrong with Mr. Oswald?" Mr. Killian said, and Sora realized with horror that Leon couldn't throw his voice. The puppet was slumped on its side. Panicking, she let go and ran over. Leon snarled again at the visitors. The older men ran as far as they could in the room, but Mr. Killian stood in place. The wolf then turned and circled behind the chair, throwing his voice once more.

"As you can see, gentlemen, we're fine and we're protected."

"You sick bastard!" The irritable man had regained use of his voice and was now taking full advantage. His companion, though, was silent. Sora couldn't be sure, but she could have sworn the front of his trousers looked darker. "You let that beast in the house so you can scare us."

Leon growled and snapped his jaws, then lay down on the floor where he hid his muzzle carefully. "You threatened my nurse. You'll be lucky if we don't raise charges."

They glowered.

"I think this conversation is over," Leon said in clipped tones. "I trust you can show yourselves out."

The older men didn't need another dismissal. Mr. Killian seemed to take slower, so Leon stood up again and barked. The young man retreated, and not too long after, they heard the sound of hooves on the pavement that indicated the departure of the guests.

"Sora… go close the doors while I have a word with Kalos."

She blinked a few times, as if she had just woken up from a daze, and realized belatedly that the other man was still there… and that from where he stood, he could see Leon's muzzle perfectly well. "Err… Mr. Oswald…"

"Go," he said, this time not making any effort at concealing himself. She heard Kalos gasp, and she immediately tried to reassure him.

"No, you don't understand, he's perfectly kind…"

"Sora," Leon interrupted, this time in milder tones. "It's alright. Nothing will happen to Kalos. Tell everyone to come out."

She looked between the men, not entirely sure if this was a good idea, but Kalos didn't whip a gun out or start screaming, so eventually she retreated and did as she was told.

* * *

"He is not a handsome man, is he?" Sarah was waiting just around the corner.

"Who?"

"Not Mr. Leon's agent."

"Kalos?"

"No!"

"I know." Lately, Sora had gotten more used to Sarah's chatter. Although the puppet refused to say more than a sentence because she didn't want to confuse her, Sora really liked her. "He must be from the Southern Provinces."

"Not many handsome men there."

"I guess." Her mind went to Mr. Killian and she winced. "But being handsome isn't all it's cut out to be."

Sarah gave her a sympathetic look and patted her shoulder. "You had to do it alone. Mr. Leon is letting you off." She made a face, like she really didn't like saying what she said. "If he hadn't gone in, others would have helped you, but it was your fault."

Sora looked away in shame. Yes, she couldn't have done it alone. Yes, Leon was asking too much. But the idea was for the visitors not to notice the weird servants. If no-one had been around when she had struggled with the horses, the others would have helped her. But Mr. Killian had stayed on his own free will – probably to get more ammo against Leon. She didn't know what was worse – actually contributing to people harassing Leon, or having him blow his cover for her.

"Do you think they're gone now? Mr. Killian and the others?"

"Yuri? Yes!" Sarah rolled her eyes. "He gives up! The whole family does!"

"I know, I know. It probably takes more than a big dog to scare them," Sora said. "I just wish… it didn't turn out to be so bad."

Sarah gave her a hug, which said more than words.

* * *

When Sora came back, the puppet was gone, as well as Leon. Kalos was sitting by the fire, head bowed. She couldn't see his face, but his tense body language seemed to convey it all. He was angry. Too angry.

She bit her lip and knocked on the door. He bolted, as if stung. Then he saw her.

"Would you like some tea?" she said, feeling awkward. "I made a fresh pot."

He blinked. "I just realized my employer is a dog. And you're offering me tea?"

"Wolf."

"What?"

"He's a wolf, actually. Or, at least I think he is. I'm pretty sure," she said. "Look, I know it's shocking. I was shocked too. But I promise you, he doesn't eat people." Kalos stared at her… and then her burst out laughing. It was a beautiful laugh – full-bellied, head thrown back and arms grabbing for support. The whole body laughed. "What is it?" she asked.

"The way you said that. "He doesn't eat people." I swear…" He struggled for composure. "You're rather straightforward, aren't you?"

"Guess so. With some more than with others." Sora shrugged. "It's a blessing and a curse. Do you want some tea?"

"No, miss, I do not want some tea." Kalos straightened up and took his hat from a nearby chair. "I think I will have tea at home, where I hope to get to before dark, and where I'll be able to think this whole thing over."

"But you won't tell, will you? About Leon…"

"Who would believe me? I'd be thrown in an asylum with the lunatics in seconds," he asked as he fixed his cravat and picked up his cane. Then his face softened "Relax. Leon explained the situation to me. I just need time to get used to the mechanics of it."

"Oh, of course." That was reasonable, she thought. After all, it had taken her some time to accept this too, right? She followed him outside, where he gathered his horse and mounted. Just as he was about to leave, he turned around and gave her a look.

"You write letters for him now, is that right?"

She nodded.

"Wonderful penmanship. You should practice it more," he said, then he took his hat off for her and kicked his horse into a trot. The bushes swallowed him soon after.

She knew she ought to go back inside soon. Sarah was right – Mr. Killian wouldn't let this thing go so easily. They needed to devise a plan, and soon. They needed real, tangible servants. Maybe with Kalos' help, they could arrange something. She sighed and breathed in the heady air. Even with the smell of roses suffocating her, it was still refreshing, after being in that room. She had been away from people for so long, having four of them in the same room made her feel closed in.

As Sora turned to go back inside, she noticed something white sticking out between the door and the hinge. It turned out to be a piece of paper, torn out of a pocket book. There was an address scribbled on it, as if in great haste, ending with a single line.

"_If you need to run. Yuri Killian."_

* * *

**A/N - No, I'm not dead. No, I'm not crazy (well, I'm crazy with work, but that's different). No, I haven't become a Sora/Yuri shipper.**

**What I am is sorry for this delay. Really, I wanted to write this story, but it just never was the time. Sadly, school and Goodreads and my attempts at an original novel came as a bit of a roadblock, so I apologize for that.**

**I do hope you liked this chappie. I'll try to upload more often, promise. I've got some pretty nice ideas too. Hope you're all fine.**

**F.S.**


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